⫸ [ TIME: +22 DAYS SINCE THE SKY WAR ]
⫸ [ LOCATION: THE WESTERN VERGE – ACID SWAMPS ]
⫸ [ STATUS: DEPLOYMENT ]
The jungle died here.
The vibrant green canopy of the volcanic sector gave way to a twisted, grey wasteland. The trees were skeletal things, their bark stripped away by acid rain. The ground was a sludge of black mud that bubbled with toxic gas.
A thick red fog hung over the swamp. It smelled of copper and rot.
"MASK CHECK," Grom's amplified voice boomed through the mist.
The Iron Legion halted.
Fifty Giants stood in the muck. Their massive Mark-II Armor was painted with a hydrophobic polymer that shed the acidic mud like water. Their helmets were sealed tight.
Grom walked the line. He checked the seals of his squad leaders.
"The air is poison," Grom growled. "You breathe it, your lungs melt. Keep the filters green."
Elian hovered nearby on the command sled.
He was in the Mark-IV Warlord. The heavy black suit looked like a demon floating above the swamp. His jump-jets pulsed rhythmically to keep him aloft, burning the fog away beneath him.
"Analysis on the fog," Elian ordered.
[ Scanning Atmospheric Composition... ]
[ High concentrations of Vaporized Hemoglobin and Aerosolized Neurotoxins. ]
[ Conclusion: It is a Blood-Mist Array. ]
[ Effect: Causes hallucinations and paralysis in unshielded biologicals. ]
"Chemical warfare," Elian noted. "Primitive but effective."
He looked at the tactical map.
The Blood-River Sect fortress was five kilometers deeper into the swamp. It sat on top of the Spirit Stone mine like a tumor.
"Forward," Elian commanded. "Keep the formation tight. Sonic sensors only. Thermal is useless here."
The Legion began to march again.
SQUELCH. THUD. SQUELCH. THUD.
The sound of five hundred tons of moving steel echoed through the dead trees.
⬡ ─── ⬡ ─── ⬡
⫸ [ TIME: 10:45 AETHELGARD STANDARD TIME ]
⫸ [ LOCATION: SECTOR 5 – THE GRAVEYARD ]
⫸ [ STATUS: AMBUSH ]
They reached a clearing filled with mounds.
Ancient burial cairns. Thousands of them.
Suddenly the mud began to churn.
It wasn't a natural movement. It was synchronized.
"Contact!" a flanker shouted.
Hands erupted from the ground. skeletal hands. Rotting hands.
Corpses pulled themselves out of the muck. They were armed with rusted swords and jagged bones. Their eyes glowed with a sickly green fire.
Hundreds of them. Then thousands.
A carpet of the dead surrounding the Legion.
◤ THREAT ANALYSIS ◢
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
⬢ Subject: Reanimated Corpse (Tier 0-1)
⬢ Quantity: ~2,000 Units
⬢ Mechanism: Aetheric Puppetry
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
"SHIELD WALL!" Grom roared.
The Giants slammed their shields down.
CLANG.
A fortress of black Void-Steel formed in the center of the swamp.
The undead horde crashed against it.
It sounded like hail hitting a tin roof. Claws scratched against the metal. Swords broke on the heavy plating.
The Giants stabbed out with their Rail-Pikes.
KER-CHUNK.
KER-CHUNK.
Every thrust shattered a skeleton. Skulls exploded. Ribcages disintegrated.
But for every one they killed, three more crawled over the bodies.
"They are swarming us!" Grom radioed. "The kinetic kills are too slow! They don't feel pain!"
Elian watched from above.
He saw the problem.
Rail-Pikes were designed to kill tanks. Using a tank-killer to fight a swarm of ants was inefficient.
"Physics lesson number ten," Elian said calmly. "Denaturation."
"A.R.C., authorize the Incendiary Protocol."
[ Protocol Unlocked. ]
[ Weapon: Flamethrower (Mark-I "Cleanser"). ]
"Legion!" Elian's voice cut through the comms. "Switch to secondary weapons! Purge the infection!"
The second rank of Giants stepped forward.
They didn't carry pikes. They carried heavy tanks on their backs.
They aimed nozzle-guns over the shoulders of the shield wall.
"BURN."
WHOOSH.
Jets of liquid fire erupted from the line.
It wasn't normal fire. It was Napalm-B, thickened with sticky polymers that adhered to anything it touched.
The undead horde caught fire instantly.
The dry bones and rotted flesh were perfect fuel.
The green necromantic fire in their eyes turned into screaming orange chemical flames.
The swamp lit up.
The horde didn't stop attacking because of pain. They stopped because their muscles cooked. Their tendons snapped. The structural integrity of their bodies failed under the extreme heat.
"Advance!" Elian ordered. "Walk through the fire!"
The Giants marched.
They walked through the inferno. Their Void-Steel armor was heat-resistant. They trampled the burning skeletons into ash.
⬡ ─── ⬡ ─── ⬡
⫸ [ TIME: 12:30 AETHELGARD STANDARD TIME ]
⫸ [ LOCATION: THE BLOOD-RIVER CITADEL ]
⫸ [ STATUS: SIEGE ]
The burning of the undead army had alerted the masters.
The Blood-River Citadel rose out of the swamp.
It was a fortress built of black stone and red mortar. The walls were lined with skulls.
A moat of actual blood surrounded the castle. It flowed with a supernatural current, swirling against the grain.
On the battlements stood the Necromancers.
They wore robes of crimson silk. They looked down at the Iron Legion with arrogance.
A figure floated up from the central tower.
He sat on a throne made of fused spines.
He was pale, handsome, and held a goblet of blood.
◤ THREAT DETECTED ◢
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
⬢ Subject: Patriarch Malus (Blood-River Sect)
⬢ Class: Tier 3 (Core Formation)
⬢ Ability: Hemomancy / Necromancy
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
"IRON DEMON," Malus spoke. His voice was smooth, amplified by magic. "YOU TRESPASS ON SACRED GROUND. YOUR SOULS WILL SERVE ME FOR A THOUSAND YEARS."
Elian floated forward. He stopped fifty meters from the wall.
He checked his ammo.
"I don't have a soul," Elian synthesized. "I have a reactor."
Malus laughed. He flicked his wrist.
The blood moat surged.
A massive tendril of liquid red rose up. It formed into a Blood Serpent thirty meters tall. It hissed, dripping corrosive gore.
"KILL HIM," Malus commanded.
The serpent lunged at Elian.
It moved faster than sound.
"A.R.C., shield!"
[ Void-Field Active. ]
Elian didn't dodge. He flared the Solar-Drive Discs on his back.
A bubble of anti-magic distortion formed around him.
The Blood Serpent hit the bubble.
SPLAT.
It didn't smash him. It destabilized.
The Aether holding the liquid shape together dissolved upon contact with the Void-Field. The serpent turned back into a splash of dirty water and blood.
Malus's eyes went wide.
"Anti-Magic? You possess the Forbidden Metal?"
"I possess a lot of things," Elian said.
He raised his right arm. The shoulder cannon locked onto the main gate.
"Including siege artillery."
"Legion! Breach formation!"
Behind Elian, five Giants moved up. They carried the heavy mortars looted from the Archimedes droids, refitted for Giant use.
"Fire!"
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
Five high-explosive shells arced over the moat.
They hit the main gate.
BOOM.
The explosion was massive. Stone and bone shrapnel flew everywhere. The magical wards on the gate flared and shattered under the chemical energy.
The gate collapsed.
"Charge!" Grom roared.
The Iron Legion activated their jump-jets.
Fifty Giants leaped over the blood moat.
They landed in the courtyard with a sound that shook the foundations of the citadel.
The Necromancers panicked. They cast curses. They threw bolts of rot.
The curses hit the Void-Steel armor and fizzled.
The Giants ignored the magic. They swung their Rail-Pikes.
Elian flew straight for the tower.
Malus was still sitting on his spine throne, looking shocked.
"You rely on blood," Elian said as he landed on the balcony.
Malus stood up. A shield of swirling blood formed around him.
"I am a Core Formation Master! I am immortal!"
Elian racked the bolt of his shoulder cannon.
"You are a biology experiment gone wrong."
He fired.
THUMP.
The railgun slug hit the blood shield.
The shield held for a microsecond, then shattered.
The slug took Malus in the shoulder. It spun him around, shattering his throne.
Malus screamed. He tried to heal himself. The blood in the air rushed toward his wound.
"Oh no you don't," Elian said.
He activated his Iron-Skin. His fist glowed with reactor heat.
He grabbed Malus by the throat. The heat cauterized the skin instantly, preventing the blood from flowing.
"I need your Core," Elian whispered.
Malus choked. "Mercy..."
"Did you show mercy to the villagers you harvested?"
Elian squeezed.
CRUNCH.
He ripped the glowing red sphere from Malus's chest.
The Necromancer collapsed. He aged fifty years in a second, turning into a withered husk as his power source vanished.
◤ ITEM ACQUIRED ◢
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
⬢ Item: Blood-Core (Tier 3)
⬢ Status: Stable
⬢ Usage: Biological Reactor Catalyst
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Elian looked at the red jewel in his hand. It pulsed with a cold, hungry light.
"One down," Elian said.
Below him, the citadel was falling. The Iron Legion was sweeping the halls with flamethrowers. The Spirit Stone mine was theirs.
[END OF CHAPTER 34]